Harry's Gift
by lfg
Summary: Who is this girl sitting next to Harry


HARRY'S GIFT

Harry sat on his overstuffed couch in his flat just outside Toronto. Only they don't call it a flat here, it's an apartment. Harry had been living here for almost a year now, an area mostly populated by wizards. He sat there, totally confused, his addulpated brain separated from reality. How can this be, he thought? He was sorting through his memories trying to find a flaw or a misinterpretation that would explain all this. There was nothing, nothing at all that could logically explain the girl sitting next to him.

A year ago he was fighting the war. He remembered the events most vividly. The end was near he knew. It was time for him to step up and honor the prophesy. Live or die. Him or me. His Ginny had been captured and was being held at Voldemort's stronghold. His Ginny in peril. Her life in balance. He had to make his move now. His primary focus, get her to safety.

Using his invisibility cloak he managed to breach the protective wards and enter the basement of the hideout. It was damp and dark, like the dungeons of Hogwarts. Search, don't be discovered, find her. A long dark corridor. Heavy wooden doors, mostly open, those that were locked were easily opened. Still nothing. He heard someone close a door up ahead. Stealthily he advanced on the sound. A hooded figure slinked away down the corridor. He was gone. Harry tried the door that had just been closed and locked. No, locked tight. Normal spells did not work. He put his ear to the door an heard a soft feminine moan. Ginny. What to do, he pondered. He waited a few minutes. Waited until the hooded figure was safely out of the area.

"BOMBARDA!" he cried and the wooden door shattered and flew off it's hinges. Harry lit his wand and looked inside. A tiny figure, curled up in a fetal position lay against the far wall. Dirty, filthy, covered in blood, only rags barely covering her broken body. Harry's heart shattered within him. It was Ginny. His Ginny. He ran to her, embraced her, held her in his arms.

"Ginny, my Ginny. Please be ok. You can make it. I'll get you out of here. Hold on Ginny. Hold on."

She did not respond. She looked up at him with eyes that were blank, lifeless. Doll's eyes. Open but unseeing. Staring blankly. Harry's body shook.

"I'll get you out of here. I'll get you to safety," he whispered.

No response. No recognition. No movement. She was a bag of dirty clothes in his arms. He slowly made his was back to the door that would lead them to safety. He folded his invisibility cloak and placed it into the pocket of his robes, then apparated her to St. Mungo's emergency entrance. The Healers rushed her to the treatment area. Harry remembered all this. Every detail. Ginny's broken body, her unknowing stare. He remembered apparating to the Burrow.

Mrs. Weasley was shocked to see him. "WHAT'S WRONG? WHO IS IT? PLEASE NOT ARTHUR!" she cried.

Harry was out of breath. "It's Ginny. I rescued her from Voldemort's hideout. She's at St. Mungo's. Their treating her now. It looks bad, Mrs. Weasley. Lets go."

They floo'd to St. Mungo's waiting room. Still no word on Ginny's condition. Finally a Healer came through the door and spoke to them.

"Mr. Potter, Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry. It is very bad. She has been tortured unmercifully. She cannot speak, and does not show any signs of recognition of those around her. I am sorry, but the prognosis is not good. There is no chance for improvement. Right now she is in a vegetative state and will probable always be so. We do not understand how she is still alive. I am so sorry."

Mrs. Weasley fainted on the spot. Harry caught her and set her on the floor, holding her. The Healer called for a gurney, and they whisked Mrs. Weasley away.

Harry was sick. He found his way outside, and immediately vomited repeatedly until he felt that his stomach itself was coming up. He held his head in his hands and cried. "My Ginny. My beautiful Ginny. How could this happen? What can I do? Why? Dear God why?" He sat on the ground rocking back and forth, repeating these thoughts over and over.

Finally he stood up, fire in his eyes, his jaw clenched. "I'M GOING TO KILL THAT BASTARD!" he cried out loud, and he apparated back to Voldemort's hideout. No invisibility cloak. No need for stealth. Harry wanted him to know he was coming. "I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU SLIMY PRICK. YOU AND ALL YOUR FUCKING DEATH EATERS!" he shouted. Harry remembered all this, but still not a clue about the girl.

When the Aurors arrived, having been alerted by the local towns people, they found 36 bodies, all horribly mutilated, almost unrecognizable, and one pile of burned flesh. Harry had kept his word. He had kept his word and killed them all. He apparated back to St. Mungo's to speak to Mrs. Weasley.

"I am so sorry," Harry spoke, tears streaming down his face. His body shaking. His voice cracking. His eyes wild, red from tears. "I have to go now. I don't know where. I just have to be away from here. I will keep in touch."

Mrs. Weasley just nodded. Her own eyes red from crying. And he simply disappeared.

Harry ran all this through his mind as he tried to make some sense out of it. He could never rid himself of the image of Ginny, tortured out of her senses, a body with no functioning brain. How could this happen? When he left Mrs. Weasley there in the waiting room of St. Mungo's, he had no idea what to do. He wandered around Brittan for weeks, then France, then where ever, what ever, when ever. He simply could not heal. Finally, he portkeyed across the pond to the Americas. Weeks more he wandered, through the northern states, up into Canada. He found himself wondering around in a wizard area that reminded him of Diagon Alley.

His mind started to clear a bit. I like it here he thought. So he decided to stay. He changed his name to James Black. Changed his appearance. His hair much shorter and controllable. His scar gone. He transferred part of his fortune to the local branch of Gringotts. He found a place to stay, deciding that he wanted to live again. He needed a job, but what could he do? Talking to local wizards he learned that there was an Auror Academy near by, only weren't called Aurors. They were called 'Justicors'.

Harry applied for a job, took many exams, both written and practical, and was offered the position of 'constable in training'. Harry clearly remembered all this, but it offered no clue about the girl on his couch. He remembered his life straightening out a bit. But lingering thoughts of poor Ginny still haunted him. He remembered going to England and seeing Mrs. Weasley.

On that Saturday, he portkeyed to London and apparated to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley was sitting in the kitchen feeding Ginny when he arrived. The shock of seeing her in this state rocked him to the core.

"Hello, can I help you?" She did not recognize him, his new appearance being quite unlike what she remembered.

"Sorry Mrs. Weasley. It's me, Harry."

"Merlin, Harry," she said, taking him into a typical Weasley hug. "How you've changed. How have you been?"

Ginny did not look up at him, or show any sign or recognition, or even any sign that there was anyone there in the room.

"I've been fine. How are you doing?" Harry asked. "I heard that Mr. Weasley died a few months ago. I'm very sorry for your loss. He was like a father to me. And how is Ginny doing?"

"I'm doing as well as can be expected. As you can see, there is no change in Ginny."

A tear ran down Mrs. Weasley's cheek. Harry was having difficulty handling the situation, and Mrs. Weasley sensed this. "Let's bring Ginny in the living room," she said. "We can sit and talk. Here, help me with her, will you?"

Harry hesitated a moment, then picked Ginny up into his arms and carried her into the adjoining room, setting her carefully on a chair. "She has lost a lot of weight Mrs. Weasley."

"Yes she has, Harry. Now I'm embarrassed. I didn't expect you. I'd offer you something to eat, but I have nothing in the house."

Harry looked at her. She too had lost weight. As he looked around, he noticed things seemed more tattered than usual. "Mrs. Weasley, I hope you don't take offence, but how are you doing financially?"

Tears formed in her eyes as she fumbled around, obviously embarrassed. "Since Arthur died, and with most of my family now gone, it's been very difficult, Harry. But I'll survive."

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm the one who should be embarrassed. Here I've been wandering around the world wallowing in self pity instead of taking care of my family. Mrs. Weasley, I am so sorry. That stops right now. I am going to setup a fund for you and Ginny at Gringotts. I'll make arrangements with St. Mungo's to have a Healer visit every day to help care for Ginny, and give you time to get out on your own. I suspect you need that."

She started to interrupt, but Harry stopped her. "Don't argue. It's done." He went over and kissed Ginny on the forehead. "I'll be back shortly," he said, and Apparated to Diagon Alley.

He setup a fund for one hundred thousand galleons, put a thousand galleons gold in a bag along with a credit statement for the fund, and set off to St. Mungo's. There he made the arraignments for the Healer visits, instructing them to draw payments from his Gringotts account, and apparated back to the burrow.

"Harry, this is too much."

"No it isn't. I should have done this long ago. A Healer will be here tomorrow. You can make arraignments for visit times with her then. I'm living in Canada now." Handing her a piece of parchment, he continued, "If you need to get in touch with me, send a message to the Ministry Department of International Communications and they will forward the massage to me. Now let me visit with Gin while you go shopping for some food. I'm hungry and I need a good Weasley dinner." And he literally pushed her out the door.

Harry vividly remembered all this. But still nothing to explain the girl next to him.

Harry carried Ginny to the couch and sat down next to her, holding her hand in his. He stroked her hair, kissed her gently on the cheek, and just talked. He told her everything about his life now, where he lived, his apartment, his work. It was like a verbal letter, an unrequited conversation. His heart was breaking, but he kept his cool and his spirits up. He knew she could hear him despite the fact that she could not respond, and probable not process anything he was saying. But he didn't care. This was his Ginny, and he had too long been ignoring her. Harry looked her in the eye, into her soul, and imagined, no fantasized, that the corner of her mouth would every now and then curl up in a smile.

Sometime later Mrs. Weasley returned laden with packages of foods and prepared a scrumptious dinner. Harry sat at the table next to Ginny, taking one bite for him, one bite for her, wiping the drool from her chin, holding her glass up to her mouth for a drink. Like feeding a toddler. And he enjoyed every minute of it. Despite the fact that tears were streaming down his cheek, he kept his spirits up, and hoped to keep her spirits up, if only in her subconscious. When dinner was finished, he thanked Mrs. Weasley for a delicious meal, kissed Ginny softly on the cheek, Disapparated to London, and portkeyed back to Toronto.

For the next six months Harry visited every week when he could, missing only a few weeks now and then. He remembered his latest visit, going over it carefully in his mind. He had helped feed her supper, then carried her to the couch in the sitting room. He sat next to her, holding her hand, stroking her hair. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and whispered softly, "I love you, Ginny babe. I will always love you."

Suddenly Harry had felt something that rocked him. Ginny lightly squeezed his hand. "WOW!" he said. "Did I imagine that? Did that just happen? Mrs. Weasley, I think Ginny just squeezed my hand."

"Oh Harry, She couldn't have, you know that. Please don't get your hopes up."

He knew she was right. It must have been just wishful thinking on his part. But still, he couldn't help but be encouraged.

His next memory was the worst. He received a message from the London Ministry. Ginny had passed away in her sleep.

The funeral was held at the Burrow. Private, with only a few in attendance. Ron and Hermione of coarse, her other surviving brothers, a few friends including Luna, several Hogwarts teachers, a scattering of people Harry didn't recognize. Tearfully, heart wrenching, he watched as she was lowered into the ground. Her resting place for eternity.

And now Ginny sat next to him on his couch.

He had been perusing several books in Jackobson's book store when a girl walked up to him and said, "Hello Harry. How have you been? It's been a long time."

He turned around and was flabbergasted, knocked off his feet. This beautiful female standing in front of him looked exactly like Ginny Weasley.

"Hell-he-helo-hello," he stammered. Do I know you?"

She looked at him and smiled. "You git, I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley. Of course you know me."

His legs started to buckle under him. He stared at her, into her beautiful eyes. He tried to say something but his voice wouldn't work. Finally he stammered , "I don't know who you are, but this isn't funny. What are you trying to do? Go away."

She took hold of his arm, look deeply into his eyes and said "Your right, this isn't funny. I apologize. I should have approached this more carefully. I know it's a shock, and I'm sorry. But I am Ginny Weasley. Now before you curse me into oblivion, can we sit down someplace and talk? I know you have a nice apartment not far from here. And I promise I won't bite."

Harry begrudgingly escorted her to his apartment. Something inside him told him that this was a mistake.

"Please give me the chance to explain," she said. "You don't have to accept this right now, but after hearing me out I think you will. And if you don't, well I don't want to think about that. Please just give me a chance."

Harry was skeptical to say the least. "Ok, for now," he said. "But be careful." Holding up two fingers almost touching he continued ,"I'm about this far from throwing your arse out of here."

"I know you wouldn't do that Harry. There is not a trace of meanness anywhere inside you." She paused for a few seconds, then continued. "Do you know what the soul is Harry?"

"No, I haven't given it much thought."

"It's the spiritual embodiment in people that defines who and what we are. Do you know what our magical core is Harry?"

"No, and why do you keep saying my name in every sentence you speak?"

"Oh, sorry Harry."

Harry snickered. "There, you did it again."

"Yes I did didn't I. I think I do it subconsciously because, well because I haven't been able to say it in so long. Sorry Harry."

"That's ok. I didn't mean to be so obtrusive. So continue about this magical core thing."

"Well, all wizards have a magical core that defines who and what they are magically. In wizards this magical core is linked to our souls. Together they define our whole persona. When a person dies, their soul leaves the body an goes on to wherever, depending what you spiritually believe."

"Wizards have been given a very special gift," she continued. " When we die, or more accurately a few milliseconds before we are actually dead, our soul together with our magical core goes to a place where our lives are reviewed. Depending on how we have lived, the good, the bad, how we influenced or affected those around us, we are given certain choices to make."

"It's like the ghosts at Hogwarts. Nearly Headless Nick told us that we are given the choice to go on to wherever, or to stay here in ghostly form. He and all the Hogwarts ghosts chose to stay. Are you following me Harry? Ops, sorry about that."

"It's ok. I like hearing you say my name. And yes, I'm sort of following. But I can't quite figure where this is all going."

"Well I was given the choice of going on, dying, or staying alive. That option I did not want. Being alive in a catatonic state was not a pleasant thought. Do you believe in reincarnation, Harry?"

"Ah, I've heard of it, but I don't really understand it."

"Ok, Harry, let me see if I can explain it. There are several beliefs. Essentially, it is believed that when we die, the soul does not always go on to wherever, but can invest itself in another living thing or newborn person. They 'come back' as a cat, or other animal, or as a newborn person. The animal or person takes on the persona of the soul of the person from which it came. You have heard people say that they believe they were a belly dancer or something in their former life?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I've heard that, but thought it was nonsense."

"Well, some people believe this. Previously I dismissed this also as silly tripe. But I don't know now. You still with me Harry?"

Harry was having difficulty keeping his focus. The more he looked, the more he liked what he was seeing. One fantastic red head with those soulful eyes. Ginny, or whoever she was, he was entranced with her.

"Harry, you with me?"

"Erm, yea. I guess so."

"Ok, but now I digress for a minute. Harry, do you know that I remember absolutely everything you said to me there at the Burrow?"

"But how Gin. You were completely out of it."

She smiled. He called me Gin she thought. "My conscious mind was short circuited, yes. But my subconscious was not. It was still processing input. I knew everything that was said, everything that was going on around me. I just couldn't pass it on to my conscious self. I recognized you the minute you stepped through the door. I remember that you sent my mother out shopping for food so she could feed you."

Harry laughed at this.

"I remember you telling me about your life, your travels after saving me. Toronto, your apartment, your job. I remember you telling my mother that you changed your name and appearance. So James Black is it? How do you think I found you?"

"I remember every time you visited me. I remember you feeding me so carefully and lovingly. I especially remember the last time when you kissed my lips and told me you loved me. I did squeeze your hand Harry. It took a super effort to force that into my conscious being, but I really need to do that, Harry."

"You were so patient and kind. Every thing you did for me was full of love. I felt that love, Harry. In my heart I was loving you more and more every time. Oh and Harry, thank you for saving me. I remember when you found me in that dungeon. I was so embarrassed. Sorry you had to see me like that."

"It's okay Gin. I'm just glad that I got to you soon enough to save you from that bastard."

"Well, thank you again. Harry, while I was in St. Mungo's, I heard people talking about how you took down Voldemort and his Death Eaters. That had to be a very brave thing for you to do."

"No, not brave. I only did it for you, Gin, not for myself, or for anything or anyone else. Just for you, to avenge you."

"You are brave Harry. I know you, I know everything about you. I know we made love the night before you left to find the Horcruxes. I remember every day I ever spent with you. I am Ginny. Your Ginny. Always and forever."

Harry took her in his arms. "I do believe you," he said, tears running down his cheeks.

Ginny was crying now. Holding him. Caressing him. "You do believe me?"

"Yes. Yes I do. How could I not. But I still don't understand. How could come back as you?"

Ginny looked at him. There was a wonder in her eyes. "It's because of who and what you are," she said. "They, those whoever they were, they who were giving me the options they said I had earned. They said that you hold a special place in the wizarding world. For what you accomplished against all odds. For the courage and strength of character that you displayed. They said that you were due a special gift. My soul and magical core were reincarnated with my previous self. Harry, the gods have given us a great gift. I love you, Harry Potter. I love you with all my heart and soul."

"And I love you, Ginny Weasley. I love you with every fiber of my being."

"Harry, I am their gift to you."

They held each other, rocked each other, kissed each other, tears streaming down their faces. For so long, they could not part from each other's arms. Together at last.

"Harry, make love to me."

"Always and forever."

END


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